


how to raise a succulent (and also maybe find love)

by trilobites



Series: the one where they're neighbors [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Constipation, Food, Frottage, Getting Together, M/M, Neighbors, Plants, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24958504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trilobites/pseuds/trilobites
Summary: Sakusa minds his own business, until he doesn't.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: the one where they're neighbors [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806418
Comments: 17
Kudos: 283





	how to raise a succulent (and also maybe find love)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think you need to read it for this story to make sense, but the prequel is here for more context: [SHIFT (in you and i)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385952).

Sakusa was minding his own business. Honestly, he was. It was the end of practice and he was tired and hungry. There was exactly half an onion left in his refrigerator, so he could go home to make oyakodon after a bath and call it a night. He was absorbed in his thoughts about dinner, so there was no explanation for why Atsumu had so suddenly and loudly declared “Aw, Omi-Omi, you were a little less prickly today than usual!”

Sakusa nearly dropped his towel, which would have been a disaster. Once that thing touched the floor, he wouldn’t be able to use it without running it through the washing machine. Then what would he use to wipe up his sweat? He glared up at Atsumu, who was smiling like there was something amusing happening that only Sakusa wasn’t privy to. Before he could ask, Hinata suddenly came up behind them and spoke, just as loudly as Atsumu had. What being had cursed them into being unable to speak at a normal volume?

“Atsumu-san! Can we talk?”

“Oh, Shouyou-kun. Didn’t see ya there. Sure. What’s up?”

“I mean _in private_.” Hinata was looking at Atsumu meaningfully, and Atsumu only smiled back at him. Whatever this was about, it was clearly significant. Sakusa narrowed his eyes at them both. He’d been minding his own business, and now the way they were acting made him feel like maybe he was involved in this matter somehow.

“Are you completely mannerless, Miya? He wants to talk to you in private,” Sakusa snapped.

Normally this was when Atsumu started to lose his temper, but he seemed like he was in high spirits today. He turned to Sakusa and said indulgently, “Okay, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa felt his face contort with disgust. “Don’t just say ‘okay.’ Actually go do the thing. And also, since when have you called me that?”

His teammates had decided that showing affection involved cute nicknames, but usually Atsumu ended it with “Omi-kun” unless he was feeling very generous. As far as Sakusa was aware, he’d done nothing to warrant that today.

“I do sometimes! Y’know, sometimes. When you’re not bein’ so prickly like you are now.”

He looked skeptically at Atsumu, who shrugged, then at Hinata, who was grinning with a dimpled cheek like he hoped Sakusa would find him cute and innocent. Sakusa didn’t. Well, he did find him kind of cute. Maybe. But he knew that Hinata wasn’t anything like innocent. He rolled his eyes and stood to his feet.

“Whatever. You two are such freaks,” he muttered, before he left the gymnasium.

There was oyakodon to be made, and it wasn’t going to cook itself. Whatever business that was between Atsumu and Hinata was theirs, and even if it wasn’t, Sakusa didn’t want it to be his. If he noticed that Hinata didn’t come to the showers nor was he on the usual train on the way home, then it was just an observation.

* * *

His plan for oyakodon was foiled by the pipe in his sink bursting. Sakusa stared at the bucket full of water that he’d mopped up from the kitchen and internally lamented. What kind of building was this? The realty office had promised that it was built in the 2010s, that they diligently maintained the plumbing. If that were the case, then would he be covered in water and hungry? He’d gotten off the phone with the property management company and shut off the pipe in his kitchen as instructed. Apparently he would be visited by a plumber first thing in the morning.

“Shit,” he muttered, running a towel through his hair. That was when the idea came to him. He was on the fourth floor and Hinata on the sixth, which he’d learned through the most impromptu sexual encounter he’d ever had. Had Hinata come home yet? Maybe he would let Sakusa use his kitchen.

Sakusa took the ingredients for oyakodon and a fresh face mask from the box in his bedroom drawer. He walked up the stairs two flights to the sixth floor, where he came in front of Hinata’s unit. Before he could think better of it, Sakusa rang the doorbell to Hinata’s unit and stood there while Hinata came to the intercom.

“Hello? Omi-san?”

“My kitchen sink needs repairs,” he said, skipping the extraneous greetings. Sakusa lifted up the bag of ingredients. “If you let me use your kitchen, I’ll make us oyakodon.”

“Really?” Hinata sounded incredulous.

Sakusa was skilled at a great number of things; he could stretch half an onion into two servings, if he was pressed to do so. When he told Hinata this, the door swung open, and there was the real Hinata looking up at him with amusement in his expression.

“I meant that I was surprised that you’d make me food.”

Sakusa huffed. “I explained the situation to you already: it’d only be an extra serving, not made just for you.”

“I like it when the egg in oyakodon is a little runny.”

“I’ll make it how I always make it.”

Hinata laughed and let Sakusa come in. He took his shoes off and put them to the side of the entryway. It was his second time in Hinata’s apartment, but the first time that he’d stopped to take stock of what was in it. The last time, he’d been too preoccupied to stop or care. His face heated a little at the memory of how eagerly Hinata had slammed him up against the door, mouth warm along his skin. They’d never talked about it afterwards, nor did Hinata seem very interested in such a conversation. Sakusa had to wonder what took up all the space in Hinata’s brain. Was it really all reserved for volleyball?

Hinata stood on the raised flooring and watched Sakusa as he took off his face mask. He held out his hand.

“I’ll throw that away for you, Omi-san.”

Sakusa closed his fist around the mask. “No. Do you have any idea how many germs are on this thing? I’ll throw it away.”

“Oh, okay.” Hinata’s head tilted. Like one of those ridiculously cute Pomeranian puppies starring in a viral video online. How bothersome.

“I’m going to use your bathroom,” he muttered, shouldering past Hinata. He thrust the bag of ingredients into his outstretched hand. “You can put this in the fridge.”

He walked into the bathroom and vigorously scrubbed his hands. The flooring in the apartment was the same as his, but the layout was a mirror image: the kitchen was on the right side instead of the left, and the living room fed into a bedroom on the left. On the way back to the kitchen, he noticed the miniature Christ the Redeemer sitting on a surprisingly well-stocked book shelf next to the small TV. Of course, most of the books were related to volleyball, and others were written in Portuguese along the spine.

At the top of the shelf sat a small succulent nestled in a terra cotta pot. It was an aloe plant with spikes up along either side of each leaf. Hinata raised plants? Somehow it was difficult for him to imagine Hinata dedicating time and thought to another life form.

“Is this real?” he asked, pointing to the pot.

Hinata came out of the kitchen, and when he saw what Sakusa was pointing at, his smile faltered a little. Then he answered easily, “Yes, it’s real. I wouldn’t keep a fake plant, Omi-san.”

The hesitation was so slight that it was nearly imperceptible, except Sakusa had noticed. It made him think of the strange incident with Atsumu, who’d suddenly started calling him Omi-Omi and commenting on how prickly he was. There was no inherent connection, but it was like calling out on a serve that by all accounts should have been in: Sakusa had instincts. He straightened up and looked directly at Hinata, all while pointing at the succulent in its pot.

“Tell me that thing isn’t named Omi-Omi.”

Hinata swallowed. “The plant isn’t named Omi-Omi.”

“Tell. The. Truth.”

Hinata was intractable, but lying wasn’t one of his great skills in life. Sakusa saw him looking from side to side, guilty admission plain to see in his expression.

“Hinata,” he growled.

“Okay, fine. Its name is Omi-Omi!”

Hinata came over and hugged the plant, _Omi-Omi_ , to his chest protectively. Like he had an honest to god attachment to the plant. Omi-Omi. Sakusa didn’t understand what had compelled Hinata to name the plant this, why he was so fucking cryptic in spite of making no effort to hide anything from anyone.

“What the hell?”

“It’s not that weird! I didn’t start out naming it. I just thought: it’s a cute name, and Atsumu-san tells you that you’re prickly often, so I started calling it that. No one was supposed to find out!” 

Sakusa stared at him. Hinata’s eyes were wide where they looked back at him. This was all so troublesome. Did this mean that it was indirectly Atsumu’s fault that this plant was named after him? Why was Hinata thinking about Miya Atsumu’s words anyway? If he was going to name an aloe after Sakusa, then he should have come up with it on his own—out of affection or even just a desire to make fun of him. He could have accepted that.

Sakusa pulled the pot out of Hinata’s hands and put it back on the shelf. He squeezed Hinata’s shoulder through the knit of his hoodie. Hinata’s throat bobbed, but he didn’t push Sakusa away. Anticipation throbbed hot in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t try to reason with himself before he leaned down and kissed Hinata.

It was brief; as soon as he pulled back, Hinata yanked him back in by the collar and pressed their lips together more insistently. He kissed Sakusa with intent, mouth opening to allow their tongues to brush together.

There would normally be a series of questions he asked prior to doing this: Did you brush your teeth? Did you wash your fucking hands? Can we not do this somewhere for collective use like the dining table? But his hunger had come upon him so suddenly that those worries seemed secondary to the soft, wet tip of Hinata’s tongue in his mouth. Sakusa shivered. When they parted, Hinata’s cheeks were flushed and eyes heavy-lidded. He looked good enough to eat.

“Shit,” Sakusa muttered.

“Are you going to have sex with me again, Omi-san?”

Sakusa’s nape began to tingle. He nodded, and let Hinata take him into his bedroom. This time, there were no cockties or deals made in the heat of the moment, just his moans muffled into the pillow as Hinata’s strong fingers wrapped around both their cocks and formed a sleeve for them to fuck into. It was messy and indelicate, and it made Sakusa burn with need. With Hinata sitting astride his thighs, Sakusa could only lay there and be at his mercy. He watched Hinata’s arm working to stimulate them both, how he was trembling from pleasure. Hinata’s mouth hung open and his eyes were glazed over where he looked down at their cocks gathered together.

“Feels good,” he panted. “I want to cover you in my cum, Omi-san.”

Sakusa groaned low in his throat. The dissonance in being called Omi-san at the end of those words was too much. He clutched at the sheets underneath him, bunching them in his fingers while Hinata’s cock slid up against the underside of his. He was going to come soon. It was building in his stomach and spreading all through him.

“Fuck. You can.”

Hinata laughed a little, his teeth gleaming in the darkness of his room. “You’re really cute, Omi-san.”

They both came after that, spilling hot over Hinata’s hand and onto Sakusa’s stomach. Sakusa couldn’t even be bothered that it was sticky and would quickly dry. He fell back against the mattress and braced himself when Hinata collapsed on top of him. Hinata had the gall to giggle when some of the cum got on his thigh. He grabbed tissues from his nightstand and wiped it off like it was nothing. Sakusa rolled his eyes, but let him stay pressed against him anyway. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about getting cum on his shirt anymore. 

Their breaths slowed and steadied, and Sakusa remembered that he’d come here for an entirely different purpose initially. Damn Hinata and his stupid succulent. He glared at the top of his fluffy orange head.

“Why are you glaring at me?” He wasn’t even looking at Sakusa. Sakusa turned his eyes to the ceiling.

“I’m not,” he said, because he wasn’t. Anymore. He rested his head against the fluffiness, and found that Hinata smelled nice, too. What the hell.

Hinata hummed thoughtfully. “Omi-san, we should date.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, don’t you like me?”

Sakusa thought about it. And thought about it. Hinata was patient, but at some point, apparently the silence had gone on too far. He was nudging Sakusa’s calf with his foot.

“Fine. Fine, yeah. What of it?”

Hinata’s eyes shone with mischief and good humor. Sakusa thought he was annoying, but he also knew he was warm and never did anything by halves. He scowled, before he smoothed out his brow and bumped his forehead against Hinata’s.

“Ow!” Hinata rubbed his forehead, looking wounded by the sudden betrayal.

“We can date,” he said.

“Really?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

As soon as Hinata pulled his hand away from his forehead, Sakusa kissed the reddened spot. Their eyes met and they both froze. Hinata’s eyes were wide with surprise. Wasn’t this what he had wanted? Sakusa’s face flushed hot, and he averted his gaze.

“Also rename that fucking plant.”

“No,” Hinata answered cheerfully.

Sakusa sighed and let Hinata wrap an arm around him. There were better battles to pick, and apparently, Hinata thought it was a cute name. Sakusa supposed that he would have to resign himself to this. Even someone as prickly as him could do that much.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't expect to write a sequel, yet here we are. Guess that meteorite struck me and demanded more. Life comes at you fast. Thank you so much for reading this silly little story.
> 
> I'm on [twitter](http://twitter.com/catspizzas) most days!


End file.
